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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30078783">One Step at a Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancake_surprise/pseuds/pancake_surprise'>pancake_surprise</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fear of Heights, Getting Together, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Time Skip, Slice of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:53:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30078783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancake_surprise/pseuds/pancake_surprise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On a team bonding trip, Aran is reminded of his fear of heights. When all hope seems lost, his knight in shining armor arrives just in time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kita Shinsuke/Ojiro Aran</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One Step at a Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchumu/gifts">matchumu</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Birthday Anna!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Team bonding is </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be fun. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be a challenge. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> supposed to be a headache inducing, Pocari Sweat fueled nightmare, and </span>
  <b>YET</b>
  <span>, that’s exactly how Aran’s day at the annual Inarizaki High School boy’s volleyball team bonding event is going. Aran kicks himself more than once for agreeing to this plan. Every other year, they simply played a few games in the schoolyard, mixed in a few of those horrible get-to-know-you icebreakers, and ended the afternoon with a picnic that consisted more of popsicles than anything else. Why did they have to mix it up </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>year?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, the team gets through most of the day with relatively little carnage left in their wake. Gin falls off of the balancing logs and into the mud puddle below, and before he’s even had a chance to blink up at them in shock, Akagi jumps in after him. The next 10 minutes are spent watching Akagi and Gin shove mud down each other’s tee shirts and into their hair. Aran would be surprised, maybe even disappointed, if he hadn’t known Akagi for the past two years. This was par for the course. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From there, Aran gets paired up with Osamu for the 3 legged race and Omimi with Atsumu, which ends in Aran and Omimi getting dragged along while the twins shout insults at each other as they race for the finish line. In the end, Omimi and Aran silently agree to fall to the ground, dead-useless weight holding both Atsumu and Osamu back, right as Suna and Kosaku overtake them and cross the finish line. Aran will undoubtedly have a nasty bruise from where his shoulder collided with the ground tomorrow, but it’s worth it for the looks of pure shock mirrored on Atsumu and Osamu’s faces. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At last, they come to the mile high bridge. It’s the homestretch. This is the last major obstacle in their way. On one hand, it’s hardly an obstacle at all. The bridge doesn’t actually go over anything. There is no valley or river running underneath. It’s just a wooden slat bridge dangling in the air for no purpose except to make Aran </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweat</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bridge itself is stretched between two platforms with a wide black net hanging between the bridge and the ground. The only way to access either platform is by scaling the adjoining ladder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this—” Aran fingers the neckline of his tee shirt as he speaks, stretching it out to let the cool breeze rush against his clammy skin. “Is this safe?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it’s safe!” Akagi says with a grin before clambering up to the platform like he’s in the midst of a one man race. The ladder shakes under the force of his quick feet, and Aran blanches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You better wait for us on the other side,” Kita shouts at Akagi’s retreating form before turning back to the rest of the group and doing a quick head count. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Kita says. “I’ll head up next. Then all the first and second years follow me. Omimi and Aran will head up the back of the group.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To absolutely no one’s surprise, Atsumu and Osamu are at the front of the line pushing and shoving each other out of the way to go first. It’s no different than the obstacles they completed earlier, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less loud. It is, however, a welcome distraction from the churning in Aran’s stomach, threatening to upend his picnic lunch by way of his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs as Osamu uses the leverage of one of the ladder rungs to kick Atsumu to the ground, before running up the ladder faster than Akagi had minutes earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did ya get that one?” Gin says from somewhere within the group. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” Suna says before tossing his phone back into his drawstring backpack and heading up the ladder after Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran waits patiently while everyone else heads up the ladder, and then over the rickety bridge. From this angle, he can’t see much of the actual crossing, but the jostling of wood and the metal chains stringing the whole thing together is enough to make his stomach continue to churn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At last, it’s just him at the bottom of the ladder, Omimi having just disappeared over the top of the platform just a moment ago. Aran is half tempted to turn in the other direction and pretend he’d gotten lost, whenever  he comes across the team again—but Aran isn’t a quitter, so he grips the first ladder rung firmly in his hands, no matter how much the thought of being more than a meter off the ground terrifies him. The metal is hot enough to nearly burn his skin after a long day in the bright sun, but it gives him something to focus on other than the uncomfortable bubbling in his stomach and the sweat on his brow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Standing at the top of the first platform is no less terrifying than the long, arduous journey up the ladder had been. On either side of the bridge there is another rope about waist height that is meant to act as a hand railing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran can only assume it’s saved countless lives by this point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a net underneath the frankly rickety bridge which Aran can only imagine has now saved countless lives. He wonders if any of them were 180cm, 80kg, high school athletes. Has this type of net been tested on anyone his size? Is it meant to catch children and near adults alike? How long has it been in use? Has it been broken down and beaten by countless seasons worth of rain, snow, and sun? If he falls in just the right area, will it’s fibers snap and— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. He can’t think about this now. He takes a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, then takes a hesitant first step onto the bridge. Like all those who went before him, it rattles and shakes, and it sends a jolt of fear through him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is fine. This is fine. I’m fine,” he mutters through gritted teeth, then takes another step. He grips the railing until his knuckles go white.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bridge is supposedly only 3 meters across, but Aran swears it might as well be 300. For every step he takes, the bridge gains another meter—becoming an unending line stretching as far as the eye can see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Aran should have considered his paralyzing fear of heights before arriving at the obstacle course. But, in Aran’s defense, he thought he was over his childhood fear of heights. Surely somewhere between age 7—the last time he let anyone talk him into getting on a rollercoaster—and now, he would have grown out of his childhood paranoia. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now that he’s stranded at the top of the tight rope section of the course, halfway across, alone and sweating through his Inarizaki practice tee-shirt, it’s painfully obvious how he is very much </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> over that childhood fear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the team is long gone. No one seems to have noticed that they were leaving Aran behind, but he doesn’t mind. At least Aran can go through the five stages of grief before eventually perishing from the aforementioned fear exactly 30 feet in the air, alone and without having any witnesses to his untimely, and unsightly, demise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aran?” comes a voice from below. Someone is climbing up the opposite ladder. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kita. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran hangs his head. Well, there goes his pipe dream of living his last few </span>
  <em>
    <span>embarrassing</span>
  </em>
  <span> moments alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aran?” Kita says again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran’s not sure that what comes out of his mouth can be described as a word. Definitely not a sentence. It’s probably somewhere between a grunt and a frankly terrified whine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are ya okay there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita sounds closer now. He’s probably standing on the platform, but Aran is too frightened to turn around and check. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran is barely more than a third of the way across and he can’t imagine ever making it to the other side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aran,” Kita says for a third time, and for the first time, Aran finds it within himself to respond. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He steals a look backward just in time to see Kita take a hesitant step onto the bridge. Aran wants to shout at him to stay there. To stay where it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span> but all he can find within himself is a feeble, “Yes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice shakes and a bead of sweat drips down his face. He wishes he could blame the bead of sweat dripping down his face as a product of the physical exertion the obstacle course requires, but he knows, deep down, that it’s nothing more than one of the more annoying ways his anxiety manifests at the most inopportune times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are ya alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Aran forces out through gritted teeth. “I-I’m— “ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His gaze dives downward and he’s suddenly and viscerally reminded of just how high he is right now, and he shudders. He’s not having a panic attack. Not quite. He knows the signs of those and this doesn’t quite fit but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> panicking, and the words he wants to say to explain his situation get stuck in his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are ya afraid of heights?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran isn’t facing Kita so all he can do is hope that he catches Aran’s quick nod. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I see,” Kita says like he knew the truth all along. “Do ya want some help?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran takes the last step he needs to make it back to the starting side, falling to his knees the moment his feet touch the wood. He’s still ridiculously high in the air and he still feels like he might throw up at any given moment, but at the very least he’s on something solid and not the thin, breakable wooden slats. It’s an improvement, even if only for the moment. He still has to get down, and just the thought of going back down the ladder the way he came is enough to send his stomach rolling the second time in as many minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him, the bridge jostles accompanied by the telltale signs that someone is crossing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s fine. It’s alright. He’s on a solid ground—er platform. And he isn’t alone, so maybe somehow, between the two of them, they’ll come up with a way to make this all okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m coming over,” Kita says. “Just—just say there. It’s gonna be fine, Aran.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran wants to believe him, but his gaze strayed too far off the platform and he caught another glimpse of the ground, and it is enough to send him back into a spiral of fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The platform rattles, just slightly, when Kita steps off the bridge to join him on the platform. It shouldn’t frighten him. He knows the platform is perfectly stable and well built, but freak accidents happen all the time, so really that’s no consolation whatsoever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you hear me?” Kita says and he puts a gentle hand on Aran’ shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna help ya get across okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Aran says, whipping his head around so quickly he almost gets dizzy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said, I’m gonna help ya get across. Do ya trust me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran doesn’t hesitate when he says, “I trust ya. It’s the bridge I don’t trust.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, that’s fine. I’ll trust the bridge and you trust me and then together we can get across.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran huffs a laugh because, honestly, what kind of logic is that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are ya sure we can’t just go back down the ladder the way we came?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re supposed to be doing team building exercises aren’t we?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran nods weakly knowing exactly where this argument is going. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let me help ya across this bridge,” he grabs one of the ropes acting as a railing with one hand, and wiggles it. The chains connecting the bridge slats make a horrible, creaking noise that is like something out of a horror movie, but Kita isn’t phased. In fact, he looks as impassive and steady as he ever does. Not pitying. Not poking fun. Just Kita. Aran can trust Kita. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran gets to his feet, swallows, and nods once in the general direction of the bridge. “I trust you,” he says. “And if you trust that </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, then I’ll trust it too. But only if you’re there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita takes a step onto the bridge and just like earlier, it wobbles under Kita’s feet. It might as well be a bowl of Jell-O with how much as it shakes back and forth with the slightest motion. In a moment, Aran will be in that bowl full of Jell-O too. Oh shit, he’s going to be sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita hesitates before taking another step. “Alright, come on. We’ll cross together.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure it will hold both of us?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita smiles. “Of course I am. Stick with me and we’ll both be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bridge groans when Aran steps on it, and the sound he lets out in response is inhuman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” Kita says from a few feet ahead of him. “Wouldn’t it be eerier if it made no noise at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask me that again when we’re on the other side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita huffs a laugh, but doesn’t say anything else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Sounds like bullshit to me, but I can’t be sure until I’m off this damn thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita takes a step. Aran takes a step. And so on and so on until, before he realizes it, they’re halfway across. It’s both a relief and more terrifying than the first half combined. The middle is where the bridge dips the furthest and sways the most under their feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—” Aran sputters. “I can’t keep going. Kita, I can’t do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can,” Kita says. “But only if you take it one step at a time.” He reaches out a hand. “Or we can do it as a team.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran nods and takes the offered hand. “Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bridge sways and Aran squeaks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Aran?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya said ya trust me, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh...why?” Aran has a bad feeling about this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On the count of 3 we run for it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” he says as his heart rate picks back up again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We run for it. Like ripping off a Band-aid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shinsuke, that’s a terrible idea.” It’s a terrible idea, but even Aran can admit it does have an appeal to it. If they make a run for it then he could kiss this damn bridge goodbye. He sighs. “Let’s do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita smiles and Aran’s chest constricts for an entirely different reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright then.” Kita’s grip tightens in Aran’s hand. “1...2...3!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They take off in a mad dash with Kita leading the way. It is absolutely one of the stupidest things either of them has ever done, but the moment his knees crash onto the opposite platform, he doesn’t even care. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few moments to gather himself, the two of them clamor down the ladder, and this time, Aran doesn’t even care about the sting of the hot metal against his bare palms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you would say something,” Kita says once they’re safely on solid ground again, and he reaches for Aran’s right hand with his left. They held hands earlier, but now that they are back on earth, and Aran can think straight again, he realizes how perfectly they fit together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Sorry,” Kita continues. “That was inconsiderate of me. I know yer afraid of heights and I should have said something and checked before I ran off in the other direction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran stops, then turns to face Kita and blinks. “You...knew?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita blinks. “Was it supposed to be a secret?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't’ remember tellin’ anyone is all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, ya didn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita grins, eyes crinkling. Aran’s stomach does something funny. It’s not that different to the way he felt alone at the top of the first platform, but this time, he thinks that maybe this feeling is a good thing. “I care about ya. Of course I noticed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Aran’s brow pinch together and his lips quirk downward. “You mean—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I pay attention to all of ya. The entire team.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, just as fast, Aran’s heart drops. Oh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But—” Kita rubs the back of his neck with the hand that isn’t entwined with Aran’s. “I might pay attention to you a little bit more than the rest of them, if I’m bein’ honest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>mean...?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I like ya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran swallows. At 180cm he isn’t used to feeling so small. Briefly, he thinks that this moment, waiting for the response to a question he already knows the answer for, is worse than crossing the bridge. Because he knows what's on the other side of the rope. If he can make it across, then it’s another wooden platform, sturdy and waiting to greet him. But at the other end of this conversation—even if they are both on the same page—there is no guaranteed path. There is no platform waiting to meet them or the relief that comes with reaching the other side. All that’s there is Kita and Aran, and what happens next is entirely up to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that. You like me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we’ve established that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” Aran nods. Once. Twice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait. Oh fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t realize he’s said that last part out loud until Kita laughs and says, “yes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I like you too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita laughs, full bellied and loud and in a way that Aran has never heard before. He wonders if it’s something special. Something just for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good,” Kita says and his grip on Aran’s hand tightens, just the slightest bit. “Now tell me, can I take ya to grab something to eat after we get out of this hellscape?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a date.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you <a href="https://twitter.com/ohmiyamy">nae</a> for giving this a read through 💛</p><p>Say hi on <a href="https://twitter.com/pancakesurprisd">twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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